Decisions
by AzureSkye23
Summary: Rather than surrendering after the War of Wrath, Sauron is captured. Now Manwe and the rest of the Valar have to figure out what they are going to do with the Maia.


**A/N: Merry Christmas! No, I'm not back yet. I'll be back in October. But my Dad agreed to help me post this for all of my wonderful readers. Hope you have a wonderful holiday season! **

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The fourteen Valar sat grim and silent in the Mahanaxar. Only one more trial, Manwë thought to himself. Melkor had been permanently sentenced to the Void, forgiveness decreed to the Noldor, and after this one last trial, the Valar could turn to the still difficult-but far more rewarding-task of beginning to reconstruct life in the Undying Lands.

Manwë sighed mentally as a small, dark form was dragged to the center of the ring. Sauron had been captured as he had tried to flee after the War of Wrath, and now Manwë would most likely have to sentence him to the Void along with his Master-something Manwë thought a terrible waste.

The Maia obviously thought so as well, for he was absolutely terrified. But it was not the same fear Melkor had displayed when he had begged for forgiveness yet again. This child's fear was more pure than Melkor's whiny, manipulative fear that had transformed into outrage when he had been sentenced to the Void. Sauron simply stared at Manwë with an absolute, helpless certainty that he was going to be hurt; and an equal certainty that there was nothing he could do to prevent it. Manwë closed his eyes briefly against the sight of those wide golden eyes.

"Do we have to throw him to the Void?" he silently asked Námo.

"No," the Doomsman replied. "In fact, it might be more fair not to. For Melkor was offered a second chance, and though he rejected it, we cannot judge this one based on his lord's actions."

"I simply do not wish to condemn a Maia, especially as young as he is, without at least attempting to reclaim him," Manwë said, opening up the conversation to the rest of the Valar. Some were shocked, and some disapproved, but all were willing to support the Elder King as he traced out his plan for the Maia.

"Sauron," Manwë said, watching the fear in the Maia's eyes increase. "By all the atrocities you have committed, and all you have helped perpetrate, we have more than enough reason to sentence you to the Void." Manwë paused, and the little Maia shrank back, a soft whimper escaping him.

"However," Manwë continued, "If you will repudiate your chosen lord and his actions, we will show some leniency towards you." The Maia relaxed slightly and blinked in surprise, before nodding.

"So easy," Manwë murmured. "Were you ever loyal to him at all?" Sauron looked pensive for a moment, then met Manwë's gaze again and shrugged.

"Regardless, you now have the choice between two options," Manwë continued. "If you wish forgiveness and mercy, you may grant us permission to examine your memories. If you are sincere in your repentance, you will be given full opportunity to redeem yourself." Manwë watched that terrible fear again fill the Maia's eyes, and he shook his head no. That was not a good sign, Manwë thought darkly.

"Then you may choose to be put to hard labor, until you decide to allow us to do so, or we decide you are again trustworthy," Manwë said. "Or, if neither option is appealing to you, we can always still send you to the Void."

Sauron looked conflicted for a moment, facial expressions shifting several times before he deliberately bit down on the gag in his mouth. Manwë stood, and came forward and removed it, not missing the way the Maia flinched as he did so.

"What," Sauron rasped, before he broke off coughing. Manwë handed him a glass of water.

"Thank you," the Maia whispered after he had taken a sip. Manwë was encouraged by the slight display of manners.

"If I chose to serve...to what use would I be put?" Sauron asked, only slightly above a whisper.

"Menial tasks, mostly," Manwë said. "But they would not be harder than you could handle, nor would they be shameful or degrading. We are not cruel, child."

Sauron sighed, nearly inaudibly, and looked down. He stayed like that for nearly a minute, before raising his head.

"Then that is the option I choose," he said softly. Manwë nodded.

"Very well," he said, reaching down to unchain the Maia's small wrists, Sauron again flinching as he did so.

"Check his physical state," Este sent to Manwë as Sauron gained his feet. Manwë saw the wisdom in that, and wrapped his hand around the back of the Maia's neck, holding him gently but firmly as he read the signals that were sent to Sauron's brain. Sauron actually cried out in fear at that, and Manwë closed his eyes again as he realized the level of damage the small form had sustained. He let the Maia go, and Sauron skittered a few steps away, crossing his arms tightly across his chest, staring at Manwë with scared, hesitant eyes.

"It's alright, child," Manwë said soothingly, taking a deliberate step forward as the Maia tensed. "I won't hurt you." Manwë took another step forward and Sauron tensed further, though he didn't move. The Vala slowly slid his hands over the Maia's small shoulders, feeling the warm, fragile creature tremble under his touch. Holding the Maia gently, Manwë thought them both to a room in Ilmarin that Sauron could have.

"This will be your room, though you will not be spending much time here," Manwë said, releasing the Maia, who immediately moved away from the Vala. "The windows are warded-if you attempt to leave that way you will be found and brought back-and you will not care for the consequences."

"I won't run," Sauron said softly.

"Good," Manwë replied. "If you will obey, you will find that your life here will at least be tolerable-and you may even find some enjoyment." The small Maia said nothing to that.

"Get some rest," Manwë continued. "Someone will be by tomorrow to fetch you, and show you what to do." Sauron nodded his understanding, and Manwë left, hoping that this decision of his would not go ill.

Sauron sighed in relief and exhaustion as he closed the door to his room. The Valar had been true to their word, and the tasks he had been set were designed to not exceed his limits -though they had today, Sauron admitted ruefully to himself as he stripped off his shirt and collapsed into bed. The logical part of his mind told him he would be more comfortable if he would remove his damp pants and climb under the covers-but he couldn't find the strength to move.

"A bit too much for you, hmm little one?" Sauron stirred weakly, hands clenching and unclenching helplessly, as large hands turned him over onto his back. He whimpered deep in his throat as he was carefully but effectively stripped of his pants.

"Shh, little one," a hand was laid briefly on the side of his face in comfort, before footsteps left, paused, and came back, and the Vala began to clothe the Maia in a soft nightshirt. Then Sauron was picked up and cradled to a warm chest, as he heard the covers being turned down. He was laid gently in his bed, and his blankets pulled up to his chin. Hands were again laid lightly on his shoulders as Manwë leaned down to kiss his forehead, and as the Vala straightened up, he gently smoothed the covers over the small Maia, setting off a wave of confused, tangled emotions in Sauron, the dominant ones being warmth and longing. Manwë left, and Sauron slept, unaware of the slight smile on his face.

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Sauron sighed as he took in the sight of his bedraggled appearance. Being pushed to his limits every day left him uncaring of things he had once paid meticulous attention to, such as personal grooming. The sigh changed to a gasp as large hands wrapped around him from behind, and he snapped his head back to see Manwë's surprisingly gently gaze.

"What was the sigh about, little one?" Manwë asked softly.

"I'm a mess," Sauron replied quietly, looking down. Manwë quirked an eyebrow.

"If you are referring to your physical state, that is something you can change," he pointed out.

"I don't have the time," Sauron replied in the same tone.

"A part of every day is given to you to do with as you will," Manwë said.

"And I spend all of it sleeping," Sauron retorted. He sighed again, slumping in Manwë's hold. "I'm so tired." Manwë said nothing, but gently began to rub the back of Sauron's neck and head.

"What do you want, child," Manwë finally asked.

"This," Sauron replied, the word torn unwillingly from his lips as Manwë continued to rub his neck.

"You want to be loved," Manwë said. Sauron gave a sad, soft laugh.

"At this point, all I want is to be treated gently," he said. "I don't care if I'm loved or not, as long as I'm not hurt." Manwë didn't respond to that verbally, just pulled Marion into his arms causing the Maia to whimper, and cling to his shirt uncertainly. Manwë carried him over to a secluded chair and sat, Sauron still cradled to his chest. The Vala thought a hairbrush into existence, and began to pull it though the Maia's tangled hair. Marion visibly fought his emotions the whole time, and when Manwë had finished, he dropped his head to the Vala's chest with a sob.

"What, child?" Manwë asked in concern.

"I was a mess, when I finished that project for Aulë," Sauron said, lost in memories. "Aulë didn't say anything about it, so after I left, I hid where I could hear. He told...he told Nyeleccaner that I was useless. I didn't wait to hear anymore, I ran. I found a small clearing on an out of the way would...and Melkor found me. He started brushing my hair, and was so very gentle...I told him what he wanted to know. As soon as I did, he stopped, and put the brush down. He thanked me for the information, and left."

"Is that why you turned to him?" Manwë murmured. Sauron nodded miserably.

"I never believed the way he did," the Maia said. "I loved Eä, I didn't want to destroy it. But Melkor wanted me, and I thought he would love me...but he didn't." Sauron gave a choked laugh.

"Why is it that now as a prisoner, I feel more cared for than I ever have since leaving the Timeless Halls?" he asked in bitter irony. Manwë tightened his hold.

"Little one, if you felt that way, why did you not allow us to examine your memories?" he asked. "We would have been far easier on you."

"I couldn't take that," Sauron said, trembling. "It hurts."

Manwë froze. "Little one, did Melkor violate you mind?"

"It hurt so much," Sauron whispered hollowly, his shaking increasing in intensity.

"Oh child," Manwë whispered, holding Sauron as tightly as he could without hurting the Maia. "Oh child. No wonder you chose the way you did." Manwë just stayed there, Holding Sauron until eventually the Maia slept, still cradled in Manwë's arms. The Vala kissed the Maia's dark hair fiercely grateful he had not made the decision to throw Sauron to the Void.

Sauron glanced in the mirror and marveled at the difference a few months could make. The Maia looking back was no longer bedraggled and unkempt, but neat and clean, with golden eyes brighter than they had been in Ages.

The hours of his service had been reduced, and the extra time was spent in the company of Manwë, where the Vala had persistently and patiently encouraged the Maia to play. It was something Sauron did hesitantly and awkwardly at first, having almost forgotten how. But gradually he relearned under the gently care of the Vala he was slowly starting to trust.

After one last check of his hair, to make sure the braids were secure and would not come loose, he headed for the kitchens. He was still preforming some of the most menial labor, but more freedom had been granted him, such as the ability to travel to and from his tasks without an escort. This day he was serving in the kitchens, something he enjoyed. He only would be washing the large number of dirty dishes, a task not enviable on its own, but the kitchen was warm and full of happily chattering Maiar. And Fanyarë, who ran the kitchen, always had a kind word for him, and a treat of some sort when he was finished.

As normal, Sauron walked into a scene of organized chaos. He slipped to the side, and joined the other Maiar already washing the large amount of dishes. He stayed there until breakfast had been served, and preparations for lunch had begun. Then Fanyarë walked over to him.

"Good morning, Mairon," she said warmly.

"Good morning," he replied easily.

"Are you good with a knife?" Fanyarë asked, almost randomly.

"Yes," Sauron replied, somewhat hesitantly.

"Good," Fanyarë said. "Come with me." She led Sauron over to a large table covered in vegetables.

"Have you ever chopped vegetables before?" she asked him.

"No," Sauron replied honestly.

"Well, it's not too difficult. Here, I'll show you," Fanyarë told him. She quickly demonstrated what she wanted, and Sauron went to work, working through the whole pile of vegetables. He then ate a quick lunch, and went back to washing dishes, until the bustle surrounding the meal had ended. Then Fanyarë called him over again.

"Thank you for your help today, Mairon," she said. "You still have some time here, would you like to learn how to make gingersnaps?" The offer to learn how to make one of his favorite treats sparked Sauron's interest and he was quickly helping Fanyarë measure and mix, as they whipped up a batch of gingersnaps. The gingersnaps were just beginning to smell very good, when Manwë entered the kitchen, and Sauron realized he was late meeting the Vala.

"There you are," Manwë said.

"Sorry," Sauron said bashfully. "I lost track of time."

"We're making gingersnaps," Fanyarë said. "You do have time to wait until they're done, don't you?" Manwë laughed.

"Yes, we can," he assured his Maia. "I would not dream of taking Mairon away until he is able to see the results of his labors."

"Taste is more important than sight in this case," Fanyarë pertly replied. Manwë laughed again. It wasn't too much longer until they were done, and the Vala and the two Maiar were enjoying them.

"Well done, Mairon," Manwë said. "Do you like working in the kitchen?" Sauron nodded his mouth full of gingersnap.

"May I have him, my lord?" Fanyarë asked abruptly. Manwë set down his gingersnap.

"Is he particularly skilled in a kitchen?" he asked.

"No," Fanyarë replied. "But he is careful, and a swift learner. The skill will come with time." Manwë looked at Sauron.

"What do you say, Mairon," he asked. "Would you like to serve full time in the kitchen?" Sauron looked around in thought. Having an actual position would give him more stability, and would be closer to living like a free Maia. H enjoyed it here, and did not mind learning new skills, especially ones that yielded such tasty results. It seemed that his decision to serve, though made in fear, had turned out to be a good one after all.

"I would like that," Mairon replied.


End file.
